CT Scan Day in Real Life: Come With Me (Video)

I haven’t posted in a while—life’s been a full-spectrum rollercoaster. After returning from the West Bank, where I supported courageous legal aid lawyers defending Palestinian youth, I came down with COVID. Once recovered, I joined a Coral Reef Monitoring Expedition to the remote Tubbataha Reefs in the Philippines, living aboard a research vessel. Here’s Adrian and me goofing around after wrapping up one of our reef surveys:

On our way back to the U.S., we made a long weekend stopover in Kuala Lumpur to reunite with a cherished friend and her community. While there, I gave a talk on the interplay of peace and justice, reflecting on some of the values I strive to live by. I also published an article last month about the political pressures I encountered while serving on the UN Panel of Experts from 2014–2019—pressures that speak to the broader erosion of international norms and institutions we’re witnessing today.

Contracting COVID just before the trip turned out to be an oddly timed stroke of luck. Though it was miserable and inconvenient, I was grateful to fall ill when I did. With the virus circulating throughout our travels—and even among my friend’s family—it would have been far more difficult to manage on the road. For the first time since beginning treatments that leave me immunocompromised, I felt less anxious about the coughs around me, knowing I had finally built up some immunity. A silver lining, however unexpected.

I'm trying something new: using Substack’s video function to share a personal health update about the possible progression of my cancer. What began as a spontaneous decision—to bring you along to my recent CT scan after a friend’s last-minute cancellation—unexpectedly deepened into a reflection on the results I received yesterday, which were less encouraging than I’d hoped. Yet, the experience reaffirmed a quiet but powerful truth: I am still here, still alive in this moment. And that is no small thing. Rather than surrendering to the fear of what may come, I’m choosing to root myself in presence, awareness, and gratitude. We all know how this story ends. But how we choose to live the unwritten chapters—that remains ours.

The video also includes glimpses from a party I attended last night, hosted by the brilliant mind behind the darkly funny and necessary @theCancerPatient Instagram page. It was an evening of shared laughter, food, and deep connection with fellow travelers on this unpredictable cancer path. There’s something profoundly comforting about being among people who just get it—whose strength, humor, and honesty cut through the noise, free of pity or the well-meaning but misplaced projections that often come from those untouched by illness (lovingly known in our world as “cancer muggles”).

Turns out laughter really is the best medicine!

Together, we celebrate life and resilience—laughing, crying, and supporting one another through it all. In this shared experience, we’ve created a sanctuary of understanding and compassion. I’m deeply grateful for the profound friendships I’ve found in the cancer community—connections I never would have made without this diagnosis, but which now bring so much joy.

I have a few upcoming posts that will explore the challenges and lessons of recent journeys—including the ongoing effort to keep my heart open amid the unrelenting violence and suffering in the world.

May you find the strength, community, and grace to meet this moment with a full heart. Sending love, light, and a sincere prayer for peace, everywhere.

With heartwarming, belly-laughing friends in KL!